The Definition of Thievery
by Raiegki Leviathan
Summary: [ON HIATUS] DISREGARDS THE ENDING FOR SLY 3. The Cooper Gang has been framed for a violent crime they have never, nor would ever, commit, and they set out to find the ones who set them up. Bentley x Penelope, Murray x OC, Sly x Carmelita
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes:** I love the Sly Cooper series. I love it so much that I've come out of my semi-retirement in fanfiction to write again, possibly the largest fanfiction I've ever written.

You're in for a full-scale adventure that will try to stick as close to the Cooper style as possible, and I'm giving this fanfiction everything I've got to make it good. I hope this story will be a credit to both the Sly Cooper section of this website and the Sly Cooper franchise itself.

The only warning I can think of for this story is that it contains characters of my creation, from new enemies to new allies for the Cooper Gang. But not to worry, this story will focus mainly on the characters we all know and love, and we'll have a few cameos for characters of Sly Cooper games past.

So without further ado, let the tale begin!

**

* * *

Berlin, Germany**

**4:26 AM**

Dawn had begun to break in the city of Berlin and the entire city seemed quiet, most of the population was sound asleep in the safety of their homes. The sky, though still dark, was beginning to show the light of day, as a soft orange glow illuminated the horizon, though the stars still shone brightly, unhindered by the approaching sunlight. The dark silhouette of the buildings pressed against this beautiful backdrop made for a lovely composition, and the silence only added to the allure.

A dark figure scurried up a drain pipe and up onto the rooftops and ran across them, leaping from roof to roof in at a frantic pace, like a panic-stricken rabbit chased by the wolf. Rapidly losing both breath and energy from both fatigue and the fact that he hadn't slept all night, he sought shelter behind a large chimney.

But reprieve did not last long, only a few seconds when across the sky came a burst of bright yellow and blue energy. The chimney was shattered, reduced to a pile of rubble, and again, the prey was forced to run once more.

And his hunter was not far behind. A graceful leap was all it took to reach the spot where he had been only a moment before. The chaser stood up and looked in all directions and spotted her target fleeing. The vixen frowned, ears pressed against her head in frustration. Her brown eyes narrowed in as she lifted a gloved hand to brush away a lock of dark blue hair. The other one held a red and yellow Shock Pistol, bearing the Interpol symbol. She removed her tan jacket, for it was doing nothing but slowing her, down and she tossed it aside, into the arms of a subordinate.

"You can't run forever, Cooper!" She yelled. "This time, you will be caught!"

For once in his life, the words of Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox struck fear into Sly Cooper's racing heart. He was running on pure instinct now, the only thing on his mind survival. A few shock pistol rounds whizzed by him, one grazing his arm as he felt a tiny pain shoot down his spine. He ignored it and pressed on.

He heard the sound of helicopter rotors, and within a second, the entire sky was filled with Interpol helicopters. It seemed that every available officer in the entire city was dead set on capturing him. They poured out of the aircrafts, trying to block his way, but Sly swung his cane and opened a path.

But Carmelita's words rang true, he could not escape her forever, and the raccoon found himself soon overcome by officers. Nowhere left to run, it seemed that Cooper had used the last of his luck when he spotted Inspector Fox high above the crowd surrounding him.

"I've got you now, Cooper." She announced cryptically and fired.

But though her aim was perfect, and she would have hit Sly without a doubt, a small remote controlled helicopter flew quickly into the shot's path, absorbing the electricity and falling onto the ground where it laid as smoldering pile of melted metal.  
"What?" Carmelita snarled as she looked around for the owner behind the chopper, but when she heard the sound of a brawl happening, she turned back towards the crowd. Only there was a new participant, a pink hippo had fought his way into the center of it and together, he and his friend were now forcing their way out, towards freedom. "Stop them!" Carmelita shouted, firing a few more Shock Pistol rounds. However, all that did was end up hitting the Interpol officers and helping the criminals escape. Having no other choice, she leapt into the fray, vaulting over the bodies of knocked out officers to advance.

"Thanks, Murray." Sly panted as he and his friend ran.

"Don't thank me yet, Sly." Murray replied as he veered to the side to avoid being electrocuted. "We're not out yet. Bentley and Penelope are waiting in the van."

In a leap of faith, the two of them jumped down the side of a building and landed onto a canopy, where they bounced safely to the street below. The Cooper Gang van was ready for them, and they wasted no time jumping into the double doors and shutting them.

"Not this time!" Carmelita hissed as she leaned over the edge and aimed her weapon. But at the last second, she noticed a flashing red light out of the corner of her eye, and she jumped back in time to avoid the detonation of the bombs that had been set up there. Once the smoke cleared, she looked over the edge in time to see the Cooper van round a corner and exit the city limits.

She slammed her fist down, and sank to her knees. Not caring who was around, she slumped over the edge and began to cry.

"You've really done it this time, Cooper." She sobbed. "I…I won't let you get away." Lifting her head, she gazed out into the countryside. "Not after this. I will bring you in, no matter what."

_

* * *

Nobody said a word as we made our getaway from Carmelita and the police. The only sound was the gentle rumbling of the team van going down the road. Finally, the strain got to us as Murray forced himself to keep his temper in check as he drove, and Penelope began to cry softly as Bentley did his best to comfort her._

_I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Sly Cooper, and I was born into a family of master thieves. As the last of the Coopers, I continue the family tradition of thievery. Only recently have I come to terms with my past, when the gang grew its ranks and we broke into my family's vault._

_Since then, the only member who decided to stay with us was Penelope. The Guru, the Panda King, and Dimitri have gone back to continue their lives, but we keep in touch. It was thanks to them that we discovered that we were being framed for a hideous crime. Someone had killed the German ambassador's daughter in cold blood, and apparently, we had claimed responsibility._

_We may be law breaker and thieves, but we're not murderers. Someone had been acting in our name, which brought us to Germany, where we quickly formed a plan to break into Interpol and hack their files. It turned out that Carmelita was brought in to head the hunt for us, having tailed us for years, she knew us best. It was then we were caught and forced to run for our lives._

_Whoever had set us up was going to pay. Not just for us, but for the ambassador's daughter, and…Carmelita as well._

_I've seen many faces of Carmelita over the years, from her usual unshakable rage to a beautiful smile, but I had never seen her cry before. To see her lovely face stained with tears…it disturbed me. It wasn't Carmelita._

_I was going to prove to the world, and most of all, to Carmelita, that my gang and I were innocent._

_No matter what._

**

* * *

Closing Notes:** I'm sorry that was so short, but this is only the prologue. I promise the next chapters will be longer. Bear with me, I haven't written for a while.


	2. Curtain Call: The Setup

**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for reading. As promised, this will be longer than the prelude. 

Big thanks to heistmaster for catching the mistake in the prelude, bad Levi, bad. It was promptly fixed to avoid further embarrassment. See? I've gone rusty in my absence.

And apparently, I've forgotten how FF.N likes to kill my format. The reason this chapter took a long time to get up is that FF.N wouldn't accept my word file for some reason.

I should warn you all now that I am incredibly lazy. And I adore Murray. Yes, you people have a Murray fangirl on your hands.

**Big honkin' edit:** I noticed _so_ many errors in both format and spelling and omitted words due to having to resave the file as a .txt instead of word as I usually do, so I had to go through it personally (twice) to redo the chapter. If you see any more errors I might have missed, such as words or punctuation, please tell me so I can fix it. FF.N, please accept my word files again.

* * *

_ Our job-gone-wrong at Interpol of Berlin wasn't a complete waste. We didn't come out completely empty handed. Before Carmelita's untimely arrival, Bentley managed to download quite a few of the files on the murder case. Some hours later, he and Penelope decoded them and the contents were wide open to us. Of course, there were some holes in the data where we had to make some guesses, but what we came up with was a good start._

_Before we had supposedly claimed credit to the crime, Interpol had done some police work and suspected a criminal group known only as the Alliance. A fairly new organization, information on them was limited, but they were known for assassination for unclear motives._

_What exactly was their plan nobody seemed to know, in fact, the only other useful information that was there was a few names of suspected members and their locations._

_Bentley pointed out that this could be the wrong way to go. There was no clear evidence that this Alliance was behind our framing, but I didn't care. I would go on a wild goose chase if I had to if it brought me one step closer to catching the real perpetrators._

_The closest suspected member of the criminal ring supposedly resided in London, England. However, we had our doubts that Interpol knew what they were doing when they put this name on the list._

_A famous British actress and known as a swan of many talents, Elizabeth was a well-known and well-loved celebrity throughout the country. She had no record of criminal activity whatsoever. Supposedly, she was the third richest woman in England, behind the queen and the author of a popular book series._

_Villain or not, we weren't going to let her go unchecked, even if this did seem like a waste of our time, but hey, maybe we could catch one of her live performances if nothing else._

* * *

**London, England  
10:42 PM**

Sly Cooper ran across the cobblestone streets as he dodged his way past several patrolmen with the famed Cooper grace he and his kin were known for. Dashing over a small bridge, he latched himself onto a lamppost and used it to jump over to the rooftops where he felt more comfortable. He stood back to take in the view for a second, he could see quite a distance from his current position. But then he heard a voice through the radio communicator in his ear and he took out his trusty binocucom peered through it, making sure to adjust the focus when everything he saw came out fuzzy.

"Well, Sly," Bentley briefed through radio contact. "I'm not sure if you remember, but Penelope's remote controlled chopper was destroyed by Carmelita's Shock Pistol back in Berlin. Without it, she can't do any air sweeps of the area, so we're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way."

"You want me to take recon photos, don't you?" Sly guessed. He hadn't taken reconnaissance pictures since the time he, Bentley, and Murray had stowed away on the blimp of the technical genius, Arpeggio. He had gotten quite used to hanging out in the Safe House or indulging in relieving the local security guards of their valuables while Penelope was assigned the reconnaissance work. "When is Penelope getting a new chopper?" He asked, hoping it would be soon.

"She makes all her own stuff, you know." Bentley shrugged. "The parts have been ordered, but they'll probably take weeks, maybe even months, to arrive." There was a long silence, the turtle shook his head and sighed. He knew exactly what the nimble raccoon was thinking. "Just take the stupid pictures, Sly." He grumbled very uncharacteristically. With that, he shut off audio contact making it very clear that the conversation was now over.

Sly had no choice but to accept the fact that unless the gang picked up a new means of air support, he'd be stuck with recon work for a while. Leaping down, he gracefully landed onto a flag pole and used it as a spring board to reach the next rooftop. Touching down, he bolted off with the famed Cooper agility and made his way across town, quickly snapping pictures of anything of interest.  
He was just in front of what was believed to be Elizabeth's luxurious home, when his ears perked and he could hear the faint sound of a voice growing louder by the second. He needed to hide, or he'd be caught, and that was the last thing any self-respecting thief would want. Thinking quickly, he climbed onto the metal fence and leapt across the courtyard onto an entryway above a door, where he quietly settled himself onto the stone gargoyle adorning it.

"…and I don't know how long I can keep up this charade."

The door swung wide open and out came the well-known face of the swan actress, Elizabeth, followed dutifully by two large guards brandishing flashlights and Winchester rifles. She did not seem to be talking to anyone in particular; the gun-toting brutes behind her appeared to be nothing more than bodyguards. Sly watched silently, his raccoon eyes glowing in the darkness, despite concealing himself in the shadows. However, nobody seemed to notice, and if somebody did, they would mistake them for a trick of the mind, as if the darkness was trying to trick them into believing the stone gargoyle was watching them.

"Of course, nobody would suspect someone who's in the public's eyes so much would be a criminal." Elizabeth continued, apparently in deep thought as she began walking down the brick road. The feathers on the back of her head were arranged in a fan-like fashion, and they swayed with every movement or even in the slightest breeze. "But while they are slow as garden slugs, Interpol is not stupid"

Sly was truly intrigued now. Dismounting his perch, he touched down onto the ground. However, the noise did not escape the notice of one of the bodyguards, and Sly found himself ducking for cover behind a barrel used for catching rain water. Emerging from his hiding place, he followed as quietly as he could, picking up bits and pieces of the bird's rambling.

"…won't like it. Shipments have been slow lately. They want me to send more money."

Sly desperately wanted to get closer, but with those hulking goons with the firearms were in the way, and he needed a way to get rid of them. Unfortunately, he was so absorbed in coming up with an impromptu plan, he didn't notice that Elizabeth and her bodyguards had stopped moving and Sly barely had time to stop before colliding into one of them. The thief backed away slowly, taking each step as if his life depended on it. And in a way, it did.One step back, two steps back; a few more and he'd be safely out of danger for the time being. Three steps, four steps…he was almost there when his sensitive ears picked up one last phrase.

"…and to use the Cooper Gang as bait. It's perfect."

Startled, Sly turned and made a break for it. Elizabeth and her sentries turned around just in time to see the tip of a black and grey tail round a corner.

* * *

There was a loud slam as everyone turned to look at a visibly spooked Sly Cooper leaning against the door and panting.

Why? Why did he panic and so foolishly gave away his presence when things were perfectly safe?

"Sly?" Penelope asked, finally daring to approach the raccoon.

"Here." Sly simply dropped his binocucom and the flustered mouse barely had time to catch it. "I think we've found our target." Penelope blinked once and merely nodded in understanding. Something was bothering their leader, and though she didn't know what, it was obvious he needed some time to sort things out. She looked though the binocucom, taking a sneak peek at the photos before handing the device to Bentley.

* * *

The old projector hummed loudly, as if it was protesting to being brought out yet again to be put to work like the so many times before it. It was still in Bentley's possession after all the years, and it was quite outdated. However, the turtle seemed to have a sentimental attachment to it, and he refused to throw it out or at the very least, get a new one, no matter how much Penelope chided him about it. Eventually, she just gave up and conceded to the fact that he was going to keep and use it, no matter what. It rattled noisily, and Penelope gave it a whack with her now-useless helicopter controller, which caused the racket to die down. 

Bentley prepared to relay his plan in full detail, in a slightly reluctant manner. There was a problem in it, and that annoyed him to no end. All of his plans were perfect, (in theory, of course) for he was the brains of the Cooper Gang, and he _was_ perfection. He did not want to admit to his best friends, and _especially_ not his girlfriend that he couldn't come up with a flawless scheme. Frustrated, the wheelchair-bound reptile made do with what he had, connecting his precious ThiefNet laptop to the ancient projector and grabbed hold of the stylus.

"It's been a while since we've pulled off big jobs like this, so listen up." Bentley said, starting up his little slideshow. "Despite Sly's hard work, we only have limited information: his recon photos and what he overheard while tailing Elizabeth. So before we can do anything, we need more data. But one thing's for sure, our enemy is a national celebrity. She's constantly in the eyes of the public, and this poses a challenge, even for my brilliant mind."

Bentley went on to explain what each member of the gang was supposed to do. Concerned for the welfare of his childhood friend, Sly, though, he carefully devised a scheme that would give their fearless leader a break, at least for a day at any rate. Accepting defeat, Bentley swallowed his pride and pointed out the one problem with his plan.

"This phone line…" a slide of said object appeared on screen. "…is connected to Elizabeth's mansion, and it's critical that we tap into it. However, there's no way I can get up there." He ended with his trademark line, the one he always said when he was stressed. "I…I'll think of something, just give me time."

And while Bentley sat there and agonized over this obstacle that seemed to be getting the best of him, Murray threw open the safe house door and charged out, ready to take on anything London could throw at him, with an amused Penelope following behind.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I realize it's not nearly as exciting as the prologue, but things will heat up considerably next chapter, which should be even longer. After all, where there's Murray, there's destruction, and I love writing action sequences, when I'm not too busy tormenting the characters, kind of like what I'm doing to Sly right now.

For those of you wondering about updates, I've divided my story into episodes, just like the game, each episode about 3-4 chapters long. I've currently got the basic outline of episode one finished, and about a third of episode two done.

I try, keyword try, to update within a week of each new chapter posted, but don't be too upset if I fall behind. I am a Junior in high school.


	3. London Operation: Day One

**A/N:** I have nothing to say, except the silly disclaimer that everyone has and that I noticed that I didn't.

So, here goes, my official-sounding disclaimer.

**Semi-Official Sounding Legal Mumbo Jumbo: **The Sly Cooper video game series and all related characters are the property of Sucker Punch. This writing is merely written for recreation and the author obtains no profit from this work. However, all non-canon characters and the scenarios portrayed in this work of fiction are of the author's creation. Do not use without permission.

**London Operation**

**Day One**

**

* * *

**  
Penelope patiently followed Murray around town, carrying a small parcel underneath one arm, and her remote control in the other. While it might have been easier to simply stop the hippo once she realized the poor guy had no idea where he was going, her sense of humor got in her way, as Murray's antics were on the most part, unintentionally amusing, usually at the hippo's expense. And she figured she could use the workout from keeping up with Murray, who was much faster than he looked. So she waited for "The Murray" to come to his senses, humble himself, and ask for help. Entertainment, exercise and an ego boost all in one go.

Murray, who had Penelope's remote controlled car slung over one shoulder, however, did not ask for the mouse's assistance. He managed to find the spot Bentley had directed them to go, either by knowing exactly what it was and deciding to take a scenic route to get an overview of the area, or more likely, just wandered around until he found it by dumb luck. Either way, he had taken the two of them clear across town and back again before reaching the point and whether it was intentional or not, they had a general idea on the city's layout and the best traveling routes and hiding places, plus the shortest path back to the Safe House. Setting the car down, Murray waited for Penelope to explain what to do, since Bentley did not like explaining things in detail during his slideshows.

Apparently, the real work was set on Penelope. She was almost never out in the field alone, because she had no real means to defend herself should she get attacked, other than by use of her remote controlled vehicles. Although Penelope had a natural talent for sword fighting, proven when she dueled the ruthless pirate, LeFwee, the sword she had used had no scabbard, and thus was too unsafe to carry around, at least, not until the gang finally got around to getting one for it. Not only that, the weapon was left behind at the Cooper Gang base of operations when they left for Germany in haste. Were she to find herself surrounded, Penelope would have no chance of escaping. Naturally, Bentley, being the overly cautious worrywart and protective person that he is, decided that sending Murray along would be a kind of reassurance, more for settling his own fears rather than Penelope's.

Penelope flicked the power on, and had her car drive a few circles around herself to make sure everything was in perfect working condition. For sport, she circled around Murray a couple times, just so she could watch him try to follow the swift car's movements and fail miserably. Once she had her fun, she set it forth, watching it from a real-time video feed screen on the controller through a camera on the car.

The small car bounced on the cobblestone roads, but the tiny motorized engine was much more powerful than it looked and the car rolled on without any problems. While doing recon work, Sly had found a small crack in the wall and a ventilation shaft leading into Elizabeth the Swan's mansion. It was too small for anyone to crawl through, but the remote controlled car had no problem squeezing into the opening.

Following a light ahead of her, Penelope guided the car out into a large room. A quick drive around told her two very important things.

One, there were piles upon piles of sacks of British pounds everywhere; and two, the car wasn't alone. Sitting next to what appeared to be a push cart normally used in the likes of post offices, was a person. Upon closer look, it appeared to be a brown bat wearing a long sleeved white shirt and loose green cargo pants. He didn't appear to look like the usual guards patrolling the streets. If anything, he looked like a normal civilian, probably one that had an unfortunate run in with the sentries around the area.

A bright idea came to Penelope's head. She had been adding a number of upgrades to her car, one of which was a Grapple-Cam speaker Bentley had given her as a sort of apology for taking her car's turret back in Bloodbath Bay those many months ago. She had never actually used it, and she hoped that she wired it correctly.

"Hey, you, can you hear me?"

The bat's large ears perked and he looked around the area, quite startled. Yep, the speaker worked just fine. Finally, he spotted the little car on the ground and got down on the floor to examine it with his pale blue eyes.

"Who are you? Are you from Interpol?"

"No," Penelope answered. "What are you doing here? Were you kidnapped?"

The bat shook his head. "No, I work here." Before Penelope could say anything, his eyes narrowed. "Don't say anything about how I don't look like I'm the type to be a criminal thug…I'm not."

"Then why are you here?"

The pale blue eyes narrowed, and there was a short pause, as if the bat was weighing whether or not he should tell the talking remote controlled car.

"Why do you want to know?" He counter-questioned.

"So I can judge whether or not to make you an offer." Penelope smirked. This guy had a way with words, and was obviously not going to let his guard down, for reasons she did not know. If anything, it only made her more determined to make a deal with this interesting character.

"Okay, I'll tell you, little RC car. I'm going to assume you know the owner of this mansion is a low-key, yet powerful criminal, part of an up-and-coming new crime ring. I specialize in quietly taking apart illegal organizations. Work my way in, take whatever catches my fancy, throw a wrench in their gears, and leave the rest to Interpol." The bat said with a bit of smugness in his voice.

"You're a lot like we are. We do exactly the same thing."

"We, as in…?"

"The Cooper Gang."

For the first time, the bat showed signs of shock. The Cooper Gang had very well-known thieving reputation, but the recent events surrounding them made them the talk of the criminal underworld, so to speak. While the Cooper Gang was regarded as one of the best groups of thieves around, they were also known for being some of the most moral criminals around, and that really got both lawbreakers and law enforcers talking.

"I will not strike any deals with murderous fiends like you."

It was not Penelope's turn to be taken aback. Was that what everyone was thinking of her and her friends? Beings so evil that even other thieves like this bat wouldn't even consider giving them a chance? It hurt, to be thought of like that, especially when they were innocent. Nobody should have to feel like that. Was this horrid feeling the cause of Sly's recent troubles?

"Whether you believe me or not, I must tell you this. We are innocent. We were set up. We did not kill that poor, innocent girl." Penelope was on the verge of tears. "We swindle, we fool, and we pilfer, but we do not kill. The Cooper Gang may steal money, but we don't steal lives. Ours have been taken from us, and we are trying to get them back."

Another long moment of silence, and Penelope took this as a sign that the conversation was over, and she should probably leave before something worse happens. The car drove in a semi-circle and headed back for the ventilation shaft from whence it came. It was almost there when a hand reached out and picked it up off the ground. The brown bat held the car in his hands and looked directly into the camera.

"My name is Lucas Marshal Bat, and I would like to talk to you and your friends in person. Name the time and place, and I will be there to hear what you have to say."

* * *

"Come on, Murray, we've got to go now." Penelope said as she scooped up her car and handed it to the hippo. 

"But…don't we have to put that new thingy of yours to use?" Murray asked, gesturing at the package still under the mouse's arm.

"Change of plans. We'll have time for that later. We need to round up the others and get to Big Ben in an hour." With that, she rushed off, clearly not in the mood for argument.

All Murray could do was shake his head. "Bentley's not going to like this." He remarked, knowing all-to-well how Bentley liked things to go exactly the way he wanted them to, and this was definitely _not_ what the turtle had planned.

"He'll love it, now come on!" Penelope shouted, not bothering to wait.

Meanwhile, said turtle was still busy trying to fix the little imperfection in his plan. So far, he could not come up with a feasible solution. He needed a way to get up to that phone line, but there was no conceivable method he could think of with the limited resources the gang had. There was no way to climb up to the phone line, so having Sly give him a lift was out of the question, and there wasn't any point in getting Murray to toss him up there. Were Bentley not paralyzed, that would have been the perfect solution. However, there was no way to undo the past, and that was it. Sending Penelope wouldn't work either, for she wasn't a turtle and couldn't be thrown with the same force and agility as a turtle's natural Frisbee shape could, nor was it very safe and Bentley doubted that Penelope would allow herself to be hurled into the air. Why, it seemed like that the only way the job could be done would be to sprout wings and fly…

His thoughts were interrupted as the safe house door swung open and Penelope poked her head in. Strange, she couldn't possibly be finished with her part yet, could she? Bentley figured it would be at least another hour until she came back, but yet, here she was. It was then that he noticed that she was trying to tell him something. Something about finding a solution to the wire tap problem…

What? She found an answer? Before he did? Well, she was just as smart as he was, though she didn't have his talent for coming up with ingenious and creative plans. Penelope quickly explained what she had in mind and within a few minutes, the Cooper Gang was out the door and headed for the London landmark known as Big Ben.

* * *

Penelope's "solution" was waiting for them right outside the clock tower. As they approached, the bat looked quite different from when Penelope last saw him. He didn't have that guarded look he kept up so diligently back inside the mansion. In fact, he appeared sort of timid. 

"Are you really the same Lucas I met back there?" She asked in disbelief.

"Well…yes." The brown mammal answered. "I'm…very good at acting you see. The truth is, your remote controlled car, frightened the living daylights out of me, with that powerful-looking gun on it and all. I have a natural talent for hiding my thoughts and putting up an act."

"So why aren't you pretending now? For all you know, we could beat you up and take your wallet any moment."

"I don't know, honestly." Lucas answered. "And you said it yourself; we have a common goal here. And I want to know if everything you said is true, that you really were set up."

"There's no way for us to really prove that." Sly replied, rather suddenly. "You'd have to get to know us as more than just thieves to know for sure. Look, we're wasting time here. Our offer for you is this: you help us out, you get half of all the loot we steal."

Lucas appeared to think over this offer in his mind, putting one hand under his chin. A chill went down Sly's spine. For some reason, the memories of Neyla, mistress of the double-cross, came to mind, when the tiger would muse on about things in that charming way of hers. Neyla had this distinct air around her that would charm anyone in it. This blue eyed bat had an atmosphere him as well, though what kind of atmosphere was undecipherable. There was something strange about this guy, but he was the only chance they had to pull off the wire tap.

Now, just about any thief would accept that proposition no questions asked. The Cooper Gang was being more than fair; anybody else would be offering at the most, thirty percent.

"That's a very good deal, no doubt." Lucas finally said. "But I reject." He finished with a sheepish grin.

All four of them couldn't believe their ears. Who in their right mind would turn away such a good agreement? Sly instantly thought his suspicions were correct. This bat was strange for sure.

"How about this," Lucas continued. "I do what you need me to do. In return, I want you to take me along on the rest of this adventure of yours to prove your innocence. Show me who you guys really are, and that everything I've heard about you is wrong."

"So, you want to join our gang?"

"If that's how you want to think of it, yes."

The gang excused themselves for a minute to talk over this counter-offer. Sly expressed his concerns. What if this guy was going to be another Neyla, turning them over to the enemy? If Lucas was really as good as an actor as he claimed, how was the gang going to know when he was faking it and when he was genuine? Penelope argued that all they had to do was take him along for the ride, his natural gift for flight and his acting skills would prove to be very helpful. Bentley took her side; it would be very practical to recruit a flier into the gang due to the loss of Penelope's chopper, which had previously been the gang's means of air support. Besides, the gang learned a lot from Neyla, whether they wanted to admit it or not. They wouldn't make the same mistakes again. In the end, Sly agreed, though he would be watching out for any signs of treachery.

The agreement set, the terms were to be carried out. The idea was to load Bentley onto Lucas' bat, and together, they would fly up to the phone line, where Bentley would tap the wire. All the while, Penelope was supposed to pick up where they had left off in the original plan. So while she unwrapped her package, Lucas and Bentley lifted off the ground and over to the phone line.

Undoing the last of the ropes on the box, Penelope opened it and took out her newest creation, a remote controlled boat equipped with several state-of-the-art technologies. Opening a nearby manhole, she jumped in. Fortunately, it was relatively clean in London's sewers, and there was no putrid odor to wrinkle her nose at, so she set to work, placing her sleek new boat in the sewer waters and set it to work. Her job was just to get a mapping of the area, for some reason, Bentley seemed to think it was critical that they knew the sewer schematics. Normally, the gang just used sewers to escape pursuits, but it seemed like the underground would be playing a vital role in the upcoming heist.

"Oh, wow, there are a ton of thugs down here." Penelope remarked, slowing the boat down so it would attract less attention. "Maybe Bentley was right. We'll really need to know our way around this place. By now, she had data on the sector she was told to scan, and she was just about ready to turn back. However, her boat did not go unnoticed.

"Bloody…would you look at that, a little boat, down here in the sewers."

"Should we follow it?"

"Of course we should…the boss said to do something about anything suspicious. Heard that she's been worried about that prowler she saw the other night. Besides, it's not like we've got anything better to do."

Despite all its high tech features, Penelope, in her haste to complete the boat on time, had neglected to put a microphone on it. She drove her boat back, unaware it was being followed.

"Hey, look, it's a little girl!"

Penelope panicked, grabbing her boat as soon as possible and scurrying up the ladder. She had been seen, and it was time for a quick getaway.

"Run!" She shouted as she came out of the hole. "Guards coming up from the sewers, we need to get back to the safe house!"

Sly helped her out of the hole as Murray grabbed the manhole cover.

"You get Penelope back to the safe house as soon as possible." He said to Sly, holding the round object above his head. "I'll hold them off and warn Bentley once he and Lucas get back."

With a mighty hippo roar, Murray slammed the manhole cover down as with all the strength he could muster. It collided with the head of a guard and he forced it down as the sounds of yelling and tumbling down could be heard. A moment later, however, and he found himself putting all his weight down onto holding the manhole closed. He heard the faint flapping of wings and looked up to see Bentley being helped back into his wheelchair.

"Um…Bentley, we've got a situation here."

"Murray, what are you doing on the ground. Where are Sly and Penelope?"

As if to answer Bentley's question, a tremendous force was applied to the underside of the manhole, forcing Murray to give way, but the hippo quickly recovered from the break in his defenses and shoved it back down again.

"That's what!" He grunted, adding some more force and his weight to the manhole. "Penelope was spotted down there, and she and Sly are making a break for the safe house. We have to go, too."

"I understand." Bentley nodded with a strange calmness. "We'll all meet back at the safe house."

"But I don't know where your safe house is." Lucas interjected. Bentley quickly told him where to go as Murray felt the manhole shake beneath him again. Once the bat had taken to the sky, Bentley wheeled his way down a street. Stopping, he turned around.

"Murray, don't force yourself anymore, let go and make a run for it!"

With a graceful push off the manhole cover, Murray turned and followed Bentley, being pursued by several of Elizabeth's angry squirrel guards, who had begun chattering amongst themselves, forming a plan of attack.

Meanwhile, Sly and Penelope were running as fast as they could towards the safe house. While they had faith in Murray, they knew that he couldn't hold them all off. Some of them were bound to take other routes, and they must have surely informed their headquarters on the situation.

"Sly, they're closing in on us!" Penelope shouted as she could see a guard jump down from a nearby rooftop.

"This isn't good." Sly huffed as the safe house came into view. "The safe house can't protect us now, there's too many of them. We have to fight."

"But…I…I'm no good at fighting!" Penelope wailed.

"Yes, yes you are!" Sly insisted. "Remember how well you fought against LeFwee? You were a natural with that sword!"

"But, LeFwee was only one opponent! And he wasn't even that good at swords, either! His was mainly just for show, or for slitting the throats of people who couldn't fight back. His skill was minimal! These are dozens of guards you're talking about, Sly, and I'm sure they all know how to handle their weapons correctly. And I don't even have my sword here, it's at home. Listen, I'll go into the safe house and get the RC car ready. I can fight using that."

Not wanting to hear anything else, she dashed into the safe house and in a minute, the car was deployed and ready for action.

"Well, she won't admit it, but she is good with a sword. I'll have to buy her a scabbard once we finish up here in London." Sly smirked as he stood ready to defend the safe house. When the first of the sure-to-be large horde of guards made his appearance, he was greeted with a whack to the head with the famed Cooper family cane. Sadly, this honor couldn't be enjoyed as the guard fell flat on his face unconscious.

One guard down…an unknown, but very large number to go.

Sly fought valiantly, covered by Penelope's artillery fire, but the numbers were overwhelming…just like in Berlin. Memories of that event assaulted Sly's senses all at once. The sights, the sounds, the emotions, they all came rushing back to him and clawed at his mind, and the Cooper heir was finding himself overwhelmed, just like before. A guard saw his opportunity and used it to knock Sly's cane out of his hand. Defenseless, the raccoon made a dash for the cane, only to find his path blocked. Penelope saw this, and attempted to clear a path for him, but the little RC car could only do so much. As soon as she took a guard down, another would take his place. There wasn't anything she could do for him, and Penelope felt like a failure and a weakling. And on top of all that, it was her fault that she was seen and this entire ordeal started. She would be responsible for Sly's death. If she lived through this, she vowed to take that sword and practice with it every day until she was strong enough to protect her friends. If only she had done that sooner! Then Sly wouldn't be where he was, about to get killed by a mob of bloodthirsty guards.

A screech filled the air, and Penelope snapped out of her state of self-loathing to look out the window momentarily. Hope had arrived! Lucas had come. But how good was he at fighting? And Sly was still unarmed, would Lucas be able to help there? As if to answer, the bat dived down like a brown lightning bolt, getting faster and faster as he made his descent. At the last moment, he flipped up, jetting out a foot and used his speed to deliver a powerful blow to the back of a guard. This had managed to distract everyone's attention long enough for Sly to recover his cane.

The battle raged on. Sly made sure to not be disarmed a second time as he pulled off a few cane-style fighting moves he had learned during the Cooper Vault escapade. It became obvious that Lucas used the air to his advantage, taking off once again and diving low. But instead of using the flying kick maneuver he pulled last time, he began flying very close to the ground at high speeds, ramming into several guards in one go and changing direction by kicking off a side of the safe house.

But even with the added help, the odds were pretty grim. The place was being swarmed by guards, and the situation was getting worse by the minute. The chaos was so intense, however, that nobody noticed the small metal object thrown into the fight. By the time anyone noticed the faint flashing red lights, it was too late. The bomb had exploded, sending several guards flying.

"Hang on you guys, we're here!" Bentley yelled as Murray stormed into the fray and unleashed his rage. The battle lasted on for a long time, nobody was sure exactly how long, or even had a guess. All they knew was that they had fought for their very survival that night, in the worst brawl of their lives, running on pure adrenaline. At last, the assault stopped when the last of the guards were down. But instead of enjoying the victory, the gang was exhausted, having pushed themselves beyond their limits as they all slumped down in the middle of the street. Even Murray, who lived for the rush of battle, had nothing to say. Penelope, the only one who had the strength to move, rushed out with a first-aid kit and began patching up everybody's wounds quietly, except for when she came to Lucas. While he allowed her to tend to most of his injuries without complaint, he refused to let her see his left arm, which he insisted was "fine" and pointed out that Sly needed help more urgently than he did.

"We survived that," Bentley finally said as Penelope put a disinfectant on a scrape on his arm. "but they'll be back for sure. I hate to say it, but the safe house isn't safe anymore. We need to find a safe house. Now."

* * *

**Closing Notes:** I'm sorry this chapter is very late, but life caught up to me. And not only that, this chapter was particularly hard to get right, and I'm still not satisfied with it. Lucas, despite being a character of my own creation, was particularly difficult to write for, because as Sly suspected, Lucas is a strange character. I won't reveal what the deal with this guy is for a long time, but I will drop a few hints here and there, in fact, there are a few in this chapter already, though I don't think anyone will piece it together just yet. 

Yay, FF.N decided to start taking my word files again, so there should be very few, if any, problems with this chapter.


	4. London Operation: Day Two

**A/N:** Sorry for the really…long time between this and the last chapter. I took time off for the holidays and finals are coming up in school. In short, life happened again.

The last chapter came out a bit Penelope-heavy. Too much Penelope and not enough everyone else, though that's not necessarily a bad thing, it was supposed to be Penelope-centric, just more than I intended it to be. So here's a Sly chapter for everyone, dive into the mind of our hero, who seems to be having problems of his own, followed with a touch of Murray at the end. I can't neglect him for too long…I'm still a Murray fan.

An optional, alternate title for this chapter could be the chapter of awkward silences.

* * *

**London Operation**

**Day Two

* * *

**

It was an old, run down place. The floorboards were popping up and creaked under their steps, and the windows were shattered. The place was cold and it literately had a carpet made of dust.

To put it bluntly, it was perfect.

A few miles away from the original site, the new safe house already felt like home. Always on the move, the Cooper Gang had always been able to settle down into new surroundings quite easily.

Of course, Bentley muttered and moaned, regarding the place with disdain. He never really did get over his mild obsession over cleanliness, and he griped about how unsanitary the place was until he was reminded by his girlfriend that he was the one who insisted that they choose this location as the new hideout. Said girlfriend was in a bad mood lately, lashing out at him for just about anything with such a fierce female fury that Bentley decided it would be best not to argue with her until the foulness passed. Then it would be back to their regular routine of disagreeing, threats, and Penelope eventually coming out as the winner.

The turtle shook his head. He, Bentley, brains of one of the most prominent thieving gangs, master strategist, demolitions specialist, and self-proclaimed criminal genius, was, as Murray had once so eloquently put it, "totally whipped."

Moving was relatively quick and painless, as everyone was quite used to carrying only the bare essentials with them. Planning their next move, however, was far from it.

Plugging in a space heater, Sly silently prayed to every deity he knew of (and he knew of quite a few) for the electricity to still be working. He let out a sigh of relief when the small appliance roared to life, adding a bit of warmth to the otherwise frigid place. It was comforting in more ways than one, as if the low humming was telling him "It'll be okay. You'll get to the bottom of this and everything can go back to the way it was before."

Except that things couldn't go back to the way they were. Sly knew it, and he was certain that the others knew it as well. It was silly of him to think that life could stay that way forever. Perhaps it was even selfish to think that. Things change. Bitter, he didn't say anything as a visibly weary Bentley got his projector slides in order.

* * *

Sly allowed himself a soft snort as he felt the blood rush to his head. He bit down harder onto the handle of his cane as he felt his patience wearing thin. He stared down at the two bantering guards below him, chattering about everything under the sun and taking their sweet time doing it, as well. He literately felt himself drifting halfway between the waking world and sleep as he forced himself to regain focus and tried to mentally will sentries away. How long had he been up there on the ceiling, clinging to a thin pipe barely strong enough to support his weight? Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? How about an hour? He straightened himself out to try and get rid of the light-headed feeling. And he was still injured, for crying out loud.

_Bentley better appreciate this._ He thought as he tried to ignore a pain that decided it absolutely needed to resurface at that very moment. _I'd like to see him hanging onto this thing for who-knows-how-long…_

Sly's disgruntled train of thought pulled to a complete stop as he heard the slamming of a door, signalizing that he could finally move. Dropping down, he landed, noting that it was rather…efficient. While he had no qualms about it, Sly was well-aware that he was always a bit of a show-off, even when nobody was around to see it. While he didn't necessarily like this aspect of himself, he accepted it as a part of who he was. He always had to add a bit of his inherited Cooper finesse to his movements, and it came to him naturally. So why was he breaking this habit now? He frowned.

Work now. Ponder later.

It was then when Sly mildly regretted shutting off his communicator. He was sick and tired of Bentley constantly asking what was taking so long, (and not being able to tell him, for doing so would jeopardize the whole thing) he had rudely cut the connection while the turtle was in mid sentence in sheer annoyance. Now that he wasn't being frustrated or pressured, he realized how curt he was being to his friends. He had been more sarcastic than usual, and was growing more and more distant by the day. By now, his gang was just leaving him to his own devices and if they wanted to speak to him, it was mission-related only.

In fact, they all seemed to be drifting a bit. Not a single one of them could honestly say that recent events weren't bothering them. Bentley and Penelope seemed to be on a sort of a silent treatment sabbatical with each other. Murray spent more and more time just sitting in the van, away from everyone else, and Lucas? That freak would just keep to himself, roosting on top of the safe house, watching for danger and twitching his large ears around like some sort of satellite dish, listening for whatever it is he thought needed to be heard. Sly did not like him; something seemed off about that guy. Strange or not, the team needed the bat and the Cooper told himself that he would just have to tolerate Lucas and the flier had already made it clear that he had no intention of staying with the gang permanently.

This was one of those changes that he mused about earlier in the safe house. And he hated it. The tension was so strong he could practically smell it, and a putrid odor it was. Sly would have given just about anything to go back to the good old days. He didn't care if he was being childish anymore. Maybe he could have taken it if it was gradual and there was time to get used to it, but no. This stupid Alliance group pretty much shoved everything into his face. He and his gang can't adjust to this in such a short span of time. Sly could only hope that things would sort out over the next few weeks. Now he just wanted things to be familiar again.

It was only then when Sly realized that he was just standing there stupidly for a good ten minutes or so. How careless of him, he could've been discovered and knocked out ten times over without even realizing it. He dragged himself out of his self-induced daze and raced to find cover in case somebody _did_ decide to come in. When he found himself safely hidden in the shadows, he reached up to his ear and felt around for the small button on the device clasped to it.

"Hey, Bentley, are you there? Sorry I had to cut you off like that, but…"

* * *

When Sly returned to the safe house, he found that the mood had lightened a little. Not much, but the change was noticeable. He was relieved to see Bentley back to his old routines, typing furiously at his laptop and making all sorts of chicken scratch over maps and blueprints and them making even more barely legible notes over them. Bentley looked up long enough to greet him and thank him for getting what he had asked for and returned to his work. Sly blinked. Usually, Bentley would blabber on about how crucial it was that he got whatever it was Sly was bringing him and offer a word of encouragement or praise. Not just…take the thing and continue on as if he wasn't even there.

So, it wasn't completely the same routine, but it was a start.

Sly was no psychological expert or anything of the sort, but he knew that he had some kind of effect on his gang. As their leader, their morale depended somewhat on him. If he was troubled, they became worried and uptight. If he was cheerful, they were laid back and more likely to argue over what restaurant they were going to order from. (None of them had any culinary talent whatsoever) And now he realized that if he was sulky and remote, they were depressed and moody.

For the sake of his gang, then, Sly would just have to contain himself and put on a front that was more of himself, despite the fact he was still feeling sulky and remote, and certain that he would be for quite a while.

After constructing his elaborate disguise, he decided to push it aside for later. His friends may depend on him for leadership, but they weren't stupid. Something was bound to be wrong if Sly had a sudden mood change.

It was silent for a few minutes, save for the rhythmic way Bentley typed at the keyboard, stopping periodically to check on something or other. It was too quiet. Sly could just not stand it anymore.

"What are you doing?" He asked his turtle friend at long last.

"Accessing the files of an old associate of ours." Bentley answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sly peered over his shoulder and could not make odds or ends of all the technological jargon on the illuminated screen. In fact, he could barely even see them. They moved so fast that Sly had to wonder how it was possible for anyone to read that fast and enter in the required codes. Was Bentley even thinking, or was all this a second nature, like Sly's artistic flair for movement, Penelope's superior hand-eye coordination prowess, or Murray's driving ability?

Speaking of the destruction-obsessed hippo, where was he?

_Probably spending more time alone in the van._ Sly thought with a spike of regret shooting down his spine.

"Who?" Sly asked, his answer a bit delayed by his wandering mind.

"Arpeggio's." Bentley replied in the same tone of voice.

Interest sparked up in Sly. What would Bentley want with the data of the poor, deceased parrot? Although he never said it, Bentley always did hold a high amount of respect for Arpeggio – the bird was a genius and quite possibly could have been smarter than him. What was Bentley after, specifically? Arpeggio's technical designs? His brilliant ideas? Or maybe his…

"Success!" Bentley cried out, earning himself a cold stare from Penelope, who had been half asleep on a couch clutching her remote controlled car as if it were a teddy bear. The reptile promptly quieted down. Sly turned his attention back to the screen and raised an eyebrow as high as it would go.

_…his list of favorite plays and operas?_ Sly stared in disbelief.

"Bentley, you are insane."

"There's a fine line between genius and insanity, Sly."

There was a strange moment of silence between them and Sly knew not to dignify that with an answer. Despite the raccoon's sharp wit and tongue, Bentley managed to come out on top every time they mocked each other in jest, and Sly always had to resort to sarcasm one way or another.

"Right. What exactly are you doing with Arpeggio's list of favorite plays and operas?"

"Even you should be able to get it, Sly. This isn't rocket science." When Sly just stared at Bentley's glasses for a full minute, the turtle shook his head and muttered something about how the world was deteriorating mentally and so on and so forth. When he finished his quiet miniature rant, he regained his composure and decided to explain things nice and slowly…so that when Sly finally did get it, it would be like rubbing salt into the open wound. "Other than building things and…you know…trying to gain immortality by reassembling a metallic owl that had been alive for a few millennia, what was Arpeggio's hobby?"

"Going to see plays and operas." Sly answered, wondering where this was going.

"And our current target that we're trying to exact some kind of revenge on for ruining our lives is…?"

"A stage actress." Sly replied.

Another awkward moment of silence.

"Oh, for the love of…put two and two together, Sly! Arpeggio was an admirer of the arts! And he lived here, in London! He's sure to have some valuable information on England's top actress!"

Sly blinked, and all he could do was nod dumbly and respond with a long, dragged out "ah."

And Bentley resumed his tirade about the sad state of the world. Quietly, of course. He was still afraid of Penelope's wrath, after all.

* * *

"Have you come to relieve me of my post?" The winged mammal asked without moving the slightest bit.

"Hardly." Sly responded while leaning against the frail chimney of the broken down place they called the safe house. How could anything so fragile be called safe, anyways? "I needed to get some fresh air."

"Hmm, fine. It's rather nice up here, anyways."

"I said I came out here for a chance to breathe, not conversation." Sly snapped, instantly regretting it. Sure he didn't like Lucas, but that was no reason to be rude.

"Suit yourself." The other shrugged.

"…sorry for yelling." Sly apologized after a moment. When he got no reply, he took that as a sign to continue on. "I find it hard to trust you, you know. You've barely been with us for a day."

"Understandable." Lucas seemed indifferent. It seemed to Sly that he was always indifferent. He'd always have no opinion and would take things as they came and went, as if he were some kind of observer watching the gang. "I only asked to be allowed to come with you, not join your gang. You're the ones who interpreted it that way."

"Will you be leaving once we're finished?"

"Most probably, yes. That is, if it is ever finished and we all don't die horrible and tragic deaths in the process."

"Listen, if you're going to channel Bentley, I don't want to talk anymore. He's part of the reason I came up here in the first place." Sly groaned.

"I most certainly agree."

"About what, channeling Bentley, or not wanting to talk anymore?"

"The part about if I was channeling the spirit of Bentley the turtle, that we should stop talking."

They sat in near silence a sort of mutual understanding had formed between the Cooper Gang leader and the mysterious newcomer. Of course, Sly still had his doubts – they weren't going to go away immediately, but he thought he could get around them in time now. The majority of the discomfort he felt around the enigmatic bat was the strange atmosphere he had around him, the one Sly had sensed earlier, and the raccoon didn't know how to approach him or deal with it. It was only instinct to be wary – fear of the unknown or the mysterious was a natural notion. It was a survival tactic that had been planted into the brains of living beings since they first appeared on the Earth's surface.

All the while, Lucas's large ears continued to twitch and turn systematically, still listening and still watching for danger.

"You're not lonely up here?" Sly asked, finally.

"Not at all. I've worked alone most of my life." There was no hint of longing in the voice. It was simply…placid. "On the off-chance that I do feel a need for company, I just have to stick my head into the safe house for a minute and all desire for companionship of any kind is promptly erased."

Sly laughed dryly, catching the subtle insult hidden in that comment. He couldn't tell whether Lucas was joking or not.

"You said you're good at hiding your expressions and feelings, right? Well, what if you're so good at it that you've tricked yourself into believing you can go on by yourself forever?" Without waiting for an answer, Sly decided he had enough fresh air for the time being and slinked away from the bemused brown bat, silently proud that he managed to get some kind of reaction out of him.

* * *

Murray slouched over and rested his head on the steering wheel of the van, his safe haven, where he went to go to think. Yes, despite all the jokes about it and his tendency to, as Bentley had once so accurately described, "punch first and not bother asking questions later," Murray had his own thinking spot. And that was his beloved van. Like the others, he could see the downward spiral the gang was going through, but it was more of himself he was worried about.

He could hear Sly and Bentley banter and play-argue, and for that, he was glad. It was a small sliver of hope these dark days. But Murray still worried for his own self. He usually didn't let matters of the mind bother him. Not because he didn't have the capabilities or interest for it, he just felt that he wasn't up to the task. It was a well-kept secret of his, but the main reason he went under the Aboriginal spiritual training with the Guru was for the willpower and mental strength to do that kind of stuff. He had always been aware on how weak he was on the inside, and the horrible week he spent in Prague with the Contessa and his own guilt over Bentley's paralysis only magnified that weakness.

Murray wasn't stupid or anything, at least, not as dumb as he appeared to be. It's just that his mouth and his fists kept going even though his brain decided it would have been best to stop. It's just that he always lost control when it came to his emotions, be it anger or sadness. After spending time with the Guru and heading for Venice, Murray thought that he did have more restraint, until he lost his temper and pounded down rather brutally on Octavio.

During the few months the Guru was traveling with them, Murray felt better and more relaxed, as if the lapse back in Venice was only a one-time thing. He wasn't going to let his feelings get away from him again.

Except they did, multiple times. And it frustrated the hippo to no end. Fighting was his release, and that was why he enjoyed them so much, because they relieved him off all the stress, anger, and everything else that built up inside of him. Murray's way of dealing with is emotional distress was by going out and beating the snot out of someone or something. Why couldn't he be like Sly, who could keep his head level even when his mind was being messed with? Better yet, how can Sly manage to hang onto his cool when Inspector Fox was involved? Murray could only barely comprehend his very short-lived crush on Penelope back in China. That had been easy to get over, the girl obviously had a thing for Sly, and later on, Bentley after the daring rescue they pulled in Bloodbath Bay.

Matters of the heart were something Murray did _not_ want to deal with at the moment, especially when he couldn't handle basic sentiments. So he pushed them all away, as far back into his mind as he could.

And suddenly, Murray felt very, very alone.

He was surrounded by his friends, but everyone was on less friendly terms with each other, and on top of that, Murray was alone in the emotional hole he had dug himself into.

He had come to his van to cope and think over his problems, but he had succeeded in nothing more than increasing his misery. Opening the door, he could only hope that there was going to be some fighting in the near future.

Because he desperately needed it.

* * *

**Closing Notes: **Stress gets to everyone, and this is my theory on how Murray handles it, by immersing himself in fighting, breaking, destroying, and possibly driving, too. He's almost always cheerful in the games, and the only times he seems to show other feelings is either during a fight or right before one. So that's how I think Murray copes with things. I'm not saying I'm right or anything, it's just my ideas. 


	5. Operation: Sewer Rat

**A/N:** I have no excuses for myself and my tardiness.

* * *

**London Operation**

**Operation: Sewer Rat**

Sly was careful in his movements, ascending up the drainpipe with ease. He hauled himself over the concrete banister as a few loose pieces of rock fell a couple dozen feet to shatter on the pavement below. The master thief froze for a minute and listened around, but heard nothing but the sounds of the London nightlife. With a flick of his ringed tail, he was off in a streak of blue and grey. In the middle of the area was a skylight, the panels propped up like a little pup tent. Those things were easily removed. Raking his cane along the edges, Sly was able to carefully and quietly remove one of the glass panes. Again, he held still and listened, but nobody appeared to have heard or noticed. Setting the transparent object to the side, he slipped in like a panther, grabbing hold of a nearby rope and sliding down it cautiously.

He dismounted, landing gracefully onto a suspended platform. Sneaking up behind a man on the other end, Sly was able to quietly subdue him. The man, however, was working the large spotlights hanging off the platform. Sly cursed his luck and reached down to move them, in order to stay hidden. Someone was bound to notice if the lights suddenly stopped moving. This, he soon came to realize, wasn't such a bad thing. He had a clear view of everything below, and right below him was the esteemed actress he sought to take out.

The master thief decided to play stage crew for a while. It wasn't like there was anything else to do for the time being. He moved the lights, watching the movements of the bird below him. Elizabeth really was graceful and a natural for the stage. It was a shame that she had to go. Sly couldn't help but wonder why she even bothered getting involved with a criminal ring anyways. He noted the way she moved and spoke as if she were a different person. Maybe she was. It was difficult to recognize her, dressed in a medieval gown that seemed to be tailored just for her.

Sly decided that Arpeggio had good taste when it came to the fine arts.

* * *

Elsewhere, in an alley not too far away, the cover of a manhole was lifted, placed onto the ground, and dragged back into place.

"How repulsive." The turtle moaned as he wheeled along. "Disgusting. Horrible. Sickening…"

The list was endless, needless to say, and his companion, Murray, decided to think about other things, like breaking, destroying, wrecking…

Well, at least Murray _knew_ what those words meant. He didn't understand half of the worlds tumbling from Bentley's ever-complaining mouth, but he guessed that they were all synonyms. Or homonyms. Whatever the word was. And this sewer wasn't so bad. Much nicer than the ones in Holland that he had to row through. At least there weren't explosives in the water.

So instead, they were going to add them. As they continued down the path that Penelope had marked down for them, Bentley would stop at regular intervals and hurl an explosive into the sewer water and the two of them would just stand there for a moment and watch the silvery device sink quietly to the bottom and gaze at the blinking red light for an additional minute in some sort of sense of mutual silent connection, or perhaps extreme boredom.

It turns out the latter was the real reason, and upon reaching their destination, (they had an hour to kill) Bentley had taken to amusing himself by fiddling with his latest invention, some kind of doohickey that everybody was certain would do something really cool and innovative and useful once it was finished. After all, he had been working on it for every waking moment of free time he had during the past few weeks.

Actually, it was just his equivalent of a stress ball. Who knew that tinkering with machinery could be therapeutic?

Murray plopped himself down next to Bentley, and quickly learned that in the future, should also bring something to do on long jobs like this. Normally, he would've just tried to start a conversation with Bentley, but although they were second-best-friends, they were vastly different. The hippo decided to relive memories of epic fights past as he punched at the air, mimicking the movements as he immersed himself.

Beside him, Bentley scooted over slightly when he felt the air from Murray's powerful fist sweep past his glasses.

* * *

Above ground, Penelope and Lucas pressed themselves against the building wall as a hulking brute with a flashlight came trudging by, muttering about how incredibly _routine_ his life was, and then wondering whether he should stop for tea or fish and chips on the way home once his shift ended.

Penelope envied him. Like her friends and teammates, she wished her life could go back to routine, well, as routine as a ragtag gang of larcenous criminals always on the run could be. But no, now they were a ragtag gang of larcenous, _homicidal_ criminals now fleeing for not only their freedom, but their dignity as well. She felt like crying again, but she promised herself she would be stronger, tougher, and less cowardly.

Once mister woe-is-me had turned the corner, the two of them made a break for it, dashing down the stone road towards the huge mansion. Once there, the bat hoisted Penelope over the protective wall and landed in the safety of a tree in the courtyard on the other side. They looked around for a little bit and descended. Penelope picked some leaves out of her long, blonde hair and they scurried again towards a nearby door. There was a keypad on the door, and normally, she would have worked out the security codes to get inside, but instead, she spent her time wondering if she should braid her hair in the future to keep it from getting in the way. Unless there was a change in the system, (very unlikely, for it would take days to get everything coordinated and distribute all the codes to the guards) Lucas knew how to get in. As the door unlocked for them, Penelope decided to keep her hair the way it was.

Inside, they found themselves in a familiar place, the room where they had first met. Revenge might have been their top priority, but the Cooper Gang still won't let money just sit there unattended. After all, what if somebody came along and stole it? That wouldn't be right, now would it?

Like always, time was of the essence, and the two of them set to work loading as many sacks onto the pushcart in the center of the room. If they worked fast enough, they should be able to clear it out within an hour.

* * *

Sly idly pushed the lights around. He had been playing crewman for a while and now he was half asleep; however, he managed to snap himself awake in time. He would credit that ability of knowing exactly when to react to his Cooper lineage. But then again, lots of things were somehow related to his family. His acrobatic skill, his quick thinking, and the delicious toast he had that morning to eat. Yes, he had somehow managed to convince himself that the toaster made such good toast because he was a Cooper.

No, it never did dawn on Sly how incredibly stupid that sounded. Besides, he had more important things to think about, such as clearing his family's name.

Coopers were known for being top notch thieves. The absolute best of the best, but what made them really unique was the way that their record was completely about thieving, no casualties at all. Of course, this doesn't count the thousands of nameless guards who have been knocked into submission and their bodies dragged where they were not so easily found, but nobody ever died during a Cooper job. Even Bentley's bombs and Murray's punches were not lethal, though they did pack enough punch to knock someone out for hours.

Sly did _not_ want himself to be remembered as the Cooper who tarnished the family's name, reputation, and claim to fame in one fell swoop, especially when he was framed. He always thought himself, and his clan, as Robin Hood-like rogues. Except that they didn't rob the corrupted rich to give to the poor. They kind of robbed the corrupted rich and left them dangling like a piece of meat to Interpol to sink its teeth into.

Ah, well. Morality in thieves can only go so far. Robin Hood was an unrealistic, perfect goody two-shoes, anyways. Or Sly thought, because there was if he did exist, he'd be better than the Coopers, and _nobody_ was better than the Coopers. So there.

Now that he had finished rationalizing why he was better than a fictional personality, it was time for Sly to work. The big, important monologue by the main character was about to begin. According to Arpeggio's database of the performing arts, the script called for Elizabeth to move across the stage and over the trap door used for the character who played the witch to pop out from beneath the stage. Sly was supposed to creep down and pull the trap door lever. And, if things went correctly, Bentley would blast a hole through the floor of the room below the stage and they would take the prize and run.

Again, this is assuming that things would go as planned.

As gracefully and silently as he came in, Sly dropped down from his hiding place and crawled over to the trapdoor lever. He waited for the perfect moment…and then he pulled on it, hard, as if his very life depended on it. And in a way, it did. The panel swung open, revealing nothing but black down below.

However, one small, but crucial detail had been omitted in the formation of the plan: swans had wings.

A loud honk filled the air as the startled, but clearly angry actress landed safely beside the hole. She drew a fan from the pocket of her outfit and fanned herself as her eyes darted around the area.

"What trickery is this?" Elizabeth demanded to nobody in particular. "Show yourself, knave!"

Sly had no choice. He darted onto the stage into plain view.

"Scoundrel!" She shrieked when she saw his face. "So you are the one who has been prowling. I should have guessed."

Sly drew his cane, prepared to fight. "You're the one who's the scoundrel. You and your cohorts ruined the lives of my friends, ruined my life. And I'm stopping you now before you have the chance to wreck any more."

"Brave words." She replied. "But can you back them up?" Without waiting for an answer, she lunged at the raccoon, swinging her fan. Sly felt cool metal graze his face followed by a sharp sting of pain. He then realized that the fan was razor edged, and that this wouldn't be a simple fight. When the bird spun around and swiped at him again, Sly was prepared and was able to jump back in time to narrowly avoid getting cut. Backing up, he got a running start and vaulted over his opponent, taking the precious second he had to give her a solid blow with the cane.

Ruffled, but hardly down for the count, Elizabeth lashed out again, only to have her attack blocked by the cane and whacked again. Again, she attacked, and Sly again defended himself. But when he didn't feel the fan connect with his cane, he was confused for a second until he felt metal slash into his arm. Looking up, he saw the swan and saw another fan in her other wing. Not wasting anymore time, he launched himself at her, swinging his cane around to deflect oncoming blows and land another hit. Except he connected with nothing. Glancing around wildly, he could only see the danger out of the corner of his eye as he leaned back as a fan came whizzing by his face and into the wooden floor of the stage.

It seemed as if they would have to fight in the air, and having no wings of his own, Sly was surely at a disadvantage. Still, he could not give up as he grabbed onto the nearest rope and started climbing as quickly as possible. As he ascended, another fan flew by, cutting off the rope beneath him. It looked like if he made one slip up it would be over. The master thief leapt off the rope and grabbed onto another one, dodging fans as he went. Finally, with one last leap of faith, he tackled the bird and the both of them went tumbling down.

From beneath the stage came a rumbling followed by the sound of a blast. Sly and Elizabeth fell through the trap door and a hole in the floor of the room below. They emerged into the sewers as Bentley and Murray quickly got out of the way.

"What took you so long?" Bentley snapped as Murray pulled out some rope to tie up their prisoner. There was no time for an answer as the three of them fled. As they emerged, they found the team van revved up and ready to go. Penelope jumped from the driver's seat and threw open the back doors. The inside of the van was lined with bags and bags of British pounds. After tossing in their prize, Murray took the wheel and pressed the pedal hard. The van was gone in a flash.

* * *

_We dropped off our extra cargo at the Interpol station not too far from where we were, along with a couple of recorded phone conversations we managed to pick up. It was all over the newspapers the next day; the entire country was shocked to see their role model was actually a crook._

_It was a victory for us, the Cooper Gang, which now featured a new, supposedly temporary member. I didn't know what it was about Lucas, but there was something that told me that he was more than just a small-time crook. He was too good. But we had more important things to worry about, like what our next move was going to be._

_What upset me was that I didn't see Carmelita at all during our stay in London. But then again, I didn't think I was ready to face her yet. The way she looked at me in Berlin…I just couldn't take it. I just couldn't…_


End file.
